Beats of Broken Hearts, SHINee, OnKey
by Mitsukai Tacchi
Summary: After an intense fight, Kibum takes refuge at his parents house where he's an emotional wreck. Jinki, not willing to give on on the relationship, follows him and refuses to leave until Kibum talks to him. One-shot. OnKey. SHINee. Boy/Boy.


Beats of Broken Hearts

"Go away," I screamed, not even bothering to get out of my chair. I had barely even walked in the three days since I had arrived on my parent's doorstep, tired and heart broken.

The floor around me was littered with used tissues and other pieces of trash; letters, pictures, mementos, things like that. My mother, sitting on the sofa across from me, had tried to salvage various items from my wrath but I would have none of it. After a while she just gave up and sat there, staring at me with concern evident on her face. I half wanted her to just go away but then I needed her company at the same time. I was a _mess._

I had barely eaten since I had fallen into her arms three days prior. My face was pale and numb, soaked with the endless stream of burning tears that haunted my every waking moment. The thick wool blanket that my father had draped over my lifeless form had long since lost its warmth. Even the raging fire that roared mere feet from my perch could do nothing to stop the constant tremble in my hands; I felt...dead.

"Please, Kibum," Jinki cried. His fists maintained a constant barrage of harsh raps on my front door. Every time his knuckles slammed into the hard wood it was as if he was hitting me.

By the light of the fire, I could see my father, tall and broad, walk into the room. His face held the same anger that pulsed through my veins with every beat of my broken heart.

"How long has he been out there, Kenji?" my mother asked. Her voice sounded weak to my ears, but it might have just been because of the thick fog that clouded my senses.

"Almost an hour," Dad replied. Contrary to my mom, his voice was deep and vicious yet, strangely comforting. He played the daddy that every little girl dreamed of, even if he had to play it for his son. He would protect me no matter what.

"Please make him go away," I wheezed, pressing my face further into my knees. As a last attempt to shut myself off from Jinki's vicious calls, I curled my arms around my legs and pulled myself into a ball.

"Gladly," Dad growled. I listened as his heavy footsteps traveled into our foyer. When the front door opened, I heard a small snipped of my boy...ex-boyfriend's voice before my dad's guttural roar cut him off.

"Get off of my doorstep before I call the cops," he bellowed, causing me to flinch further into the protection of my deep chair.

"Mr. Kenji-" Jinki began but was stopped by my father's angry shout.

"Boy, you are barking up the wrong tree," Dad growled. I lifted my head in time to see all six feet five inches of my huge father dive out the door. My mother, noticing my stare, quickly upped the volume on her white I-home, letting some acoustic version of something Japanese fill the room, before waling over to block my view.

"Sweet heart," She whispered, running her soft fingers through the tangle mats that I dared to call hair. "Are you sure you can't forgive him?"

"It's not worth it," I whispered, letting my head loll into my mom's comforting hands. "It hurts too much."

"I know it does, Sweet, but that's just part of it. Oh, is he gone?" She asked when the front door slammed shut, grabbing both or our attention.

"Sort of," Dad sighed and leaned against the living room door frame. He crossed both of his arms over his wide chest and leaned his head on the wood beside him. "I dragged him to the end of the driveway and dropped him on the sidewalk. He just made himself comfy and refused to move. Stubborn little weasel."

"You didn't hurt him, did you? Damn stubborn fool," I gasped, sitting up straighter and looking at my father with fear evident in my raspy voice.

"Kibum," Dad warned, glaring and me and causing me to avert my worried gaze.

"Sorry," I whispered, reaching up to dry my eyes on the baggy sweatshirt that I'd been wearing for three days...Dad didn't know that it was Jinki's.

"It's okay, honey, it's only understandable that you still worry about him," Mom whispered and cradled my head in her small hands.

"Hana," Dad growled. He just didn't get it. "No, Kibum, I didn't hurt him. I wish I had, but he's fine, unfortunately."

"Thank you," I whispered and sank back against my seat cushions. I was emotionally exhausted.

Both of my parents left me alone after that. My dad disappeared into his office and my mom collapsed onto the couch, leaving me to return to the gruesome task of tearing old pictures and useless things of incredible sentimental value. Both of them seemed to realize that I just needed to be alone by that point; mom more so than dad.

My mom was amazing. When she had opened her door to fine me, a sobbing mess barely able to talk or stand, the first thing she did was wrap me in her arms and help me inside. She knew everything about me and always understood exactly what I needed. Heck, she knew I was gay before I did. The only problem with her was that she would not accept my decision to push Lee Jinki out of my life. She kept trying t make me go back wit him....to try again...but I just couldn't.

Jinki and I never had a perfect relationship. We were so absolutely different that we could barely go a day without snapping at each other. Still, though, there was just something about him that drew me in. He was intoxicating...I was addicted. But...it was too damn hard. We had survived almost two years of each other before he said the things that just hurt too much to blow over. Just thinking about it made me dissolve into a mess of shaking tears, unsteady breathing, and angry flinging of whatever had been in my hands.

In the background, I could hear my mother calling my dad, but I was too distraught to know why. After a few moments, though, I felt my blanket being lifted out of my weak grasp before a set of firm, muscular arms were placed around me; one on my back and one under my legs.

The motion of being lifted caused my head to spin so I didn't dare to open my eyes. I didn't need to; I wasn't too far gone to know that my dad was carrying my sickly body up the stairs.

"Put me down; I'm not an infant." I whispered and weakly pushed against his chest. I wanted to stay downstairs; being in my room was miserable. It's not like I could sleep, anyway. I would just lie awake and think of how alone I was...how much I wanted to climb into _his_ bed and _his_ arms. But, if I let my mind wander too far into those painful memories, my resolve would begin to weaken and I didn't know if I'd be able to stay away.

"Hush," Mom whispered as she folded the covers of my bed back so my dad could lie me down.

"I'm sorry," I murmured and flinched when my skin made contact with the cold sheets. "I'm trying to not be so emotional and dramatic. I just can't, Mom!" I cried, turning onto my side and burying my face in my pillow.

"I know, Kibum. You're hurting right now. You'll come around when you're ready," Mom sighed and leaned down to plant a kiss on my temple. "Now try to get some sleep. Maybe you'll be ready to talk to him in the morning-"

"Hana!" Dad hissed, quickly wrapping his arm around her small shoulders and promptly dragging her out of the room.

The moment I was alone, the tears resumed their steady march down my hollow cheeks. There were no lights in my room other than the bulb on my ceiling fan, but it was turned off and too bright anyway. The silence around me was so loud that it was almost painful to listen to.

I wanted my dorm. I wanted to lay awake, watching my boys sleep and listen to the gently lullaby of sweet, sweet unconsciousness. Hell, I even longed to wake up in the middle of the night when little Taemin's always moving dancer's feet landed a harsh kick to Jinki's...legs.

After about an hour of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, I opted to try a few tricks to get to sleep. I quickly pulled my pink I-pod off of my mahogany end table and slipped the headphones into my ears. I didn't bother with setting up an on-the-go list and instead hit "Shuffle Songs," letting whatever song that came on play and distract me.

This worked for about an hour. I was _almost_ asleep when "In My Room" came on and Jinki's sweet, soft, thick voice drifted into my ears, filling my senses with nothing but _him_.

"Bad idea, bad idea," I sobbed, roughly pulling the buds from my ears and flinging the expensive device across the room. I heard it slam into my tall, wooden bookshelf with a resounding crack, probably the screen breaking, but I didn't actually care. No, I was too engrossed in controlling the harsh sobs that were mercilessly wracking over my thin frame. It felt like my life was crumbling around me and everything was ruined. I couldn't be in SHINee and live near _him_, anymore. It would be too painful...I loved him to much. All of my hard work was going down the drain because I couldn't manage to get along with the love of my life for more than a day. Even God seemed to cry with me that night, letting a torrent of rain crash down upon my house and making me lose all hope of drifting to sleep. By the time my clock struck five, I couldn't even bare to be in my room anymore.

With a small groan, I pushed myself into a sitting position. For a small moment, the walls around me seemed to spin and close in on me; having a lack of sleep and protein was not good healthy. When my head finally cleared and I heaved myself up, though, I had to place my hand on the wall for support.

It took me much longer than it should have just to reach my bedroom doorway, then almost ten minutes just to make it down the stairs.

"Kibum!" My mother gasped when I walked into our small, white kitchen.

"What are you doing awake?" I asked and took in her small form, seated at the kitchen table. She was wrapped in the same blanket that I had taken cover under, the night before, and her thin hands were tightly wrapped around a glass mug.

"I couldn't sleep," She replied and motioned for me to sit at the table with her.

"Me neither," I sighed as I sank into an uncomfortable wooden chair. I barely had the energy to hold my head up so I rested my upper body on the cold surface of our small table.

"Want some tea?" Mom asked and gently brushed my long bangs out of my face. Her hands were still warm from her hot mug.

"No," I murmured and squeezed my weary eyes closed.

"Too bad," mom chuckled and stood with a small groan. I listened as feet, padded in wool slippers, shuffled across the room, gently masked by the soft pitter patter of rain outside the window above our sink. The air was crisp with electricity from the storm over head, even though lightening had yet to strike down.

"Mom," I began when I had my own steaming cup of tea between my cold hands. "Do you think...I'm being too..." I sighed and lifted my mug to my lips, taking a small sip before going on. "I don't know what to do. Should I go back to him?"

"Well, Kibum, that's really up to you. If you think that he's worth it, which I do, then maybe you can try again," she replied and aimlessly circled the rim of her glass mug with her index finger. The dim lights in the kitchen cast a gently glow on her short form and allowed me to see exactly how tired she looked. Still, though, there was a small flicker of hope in her eyes.

"But...we can't get along at all," I groaned and let my head fall back onto the table with a small thud.

"Neither can your father and I, but that doesn't make a difference," Mom smiled and leaned back in her chair.

"We always have different opinions on things," I continued.

"If someone always agrees with you it will just piss you off. Arguing an opinion is half the fun," Mom laughed; she was enjoying herself.

"What would I say to him? It would be so awkward," I groaned and glared at my mother. She was doing everything in her power to make me forgive Jinki...and she was succeeding.

"That is one that I can't answer for you. But...I think you should try. I mean, I doubt that that kid would turn you away or anything, Kibum. I mean if he's willing to...I mean...well."

"What?" I asked and lifted my head to look at my mother's now thoughtful face.

"Your father made me swear not to tell you. Don't freak out," she ordered and placed a strong hand on my forearm

"What, Mom?" I gasped and sat up straight, concern rushing through my entire body.

"He's still outside."

"He's what?" I screamed and jumped out of my seat. I wobbled unsteadily for a moment before catching myself on the table and staring at my mother in shock.

"I gave him a blanket, umbrella, and thermal mug of tea a few hours ago. Don't tell your father about that, either. He's curled up under the tree at the end of the drive way," she groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. "I tried to make him go home but he won't listen to me. He says he won't move until you talk to him. The idiot is going to get himself killed."

"Mom!" I yelled and slammed my hand onto the table with an echoing smack. "Why didn't you get me? It's _raining!_"

"Because you were convinced that you never wanted to see him again," she replied and quirked her eyebrow.

I didn't give her a response to that, not that I could think of one. Instead, I bolted out of the room. I stumbled twice on my way to the front door and then had an all our wrestling match with my new found worst enemy; the locked door knob.

When I was finally standing on the front porch, I hesitated and leaned against the bricks of my house. My heart pounded in my ears when I saw Jinki's form, huddled beneath the branches of our Red Sunset Maple tree. The heavy rain clouded my vision but I could still see his broad shoulders protruding from the blanket that was draped over his legs. His head was covered in a small beanie and his knees were pulled to his chest. His face was hidden to me because it was protected behind his bulging forearms.

He didn't notice me when I began making my way down our sidewalk. I wasn't even sure if he was awake but I doubted that he was sleeping. Even the broad leaved of the maple tree couldn't protect him from the same cold rain that had soaked me within moments of coming outside. The damn fool was going to turn hypothermic.

"Jinki..." I called when I was relatively fifteen feet away, staring at his body, scarily small in the dreariness of the storm.

His head snapped up and his eyes, dark and wide, stared at me in shock. "Kibum!" He yelled and stumbled to his feet. He took a quick step towards me before stopping and regarding me with concern evident on his soaked face. "What the hell are you doing out here? It's raining," He growled and contradicted his cause by wiping the heavy water from his face.

"I'm asking you what the hell you think _you're_ doing out here!" I screamed and glared at him. "Do you want to get killed? You're such an idiot!"

"Yeah and you're an ass but that's just a fact so get over it. I need to talk to you, Kibum." He snapped and crossed his arms.

"About what? What's the point?" I yelled and made my arms stay obediently by my sides. "Just look at us now! We just don't get along anymore."

"We never have! What difference does it make now? We don't need to break up because of it." He cried and wrapped both of his hands around the back of his head in aggravation.

"I don't know! It just...it's too hard. I don't know what to do with you anymore!" I yelled and fought against the tears that were pouring from my eyes without cease.

"God, Kibum! We can work this out! Can you just not be so difficult?"

"No!" I barked and turned my head away from him in aggravation. Over the loud rain I could hear his breathy laugh cut though the early morning. "Can you not be so...so...you?"

"Never," he laughed. I turned my head to face him again and then sighed.

"We wouldn't have it any other way, would we?" I choked and let a few sobs slip over my soaking wet frame.

"Not in a million years," he replied and held his hands out as if he was at a loss. "We will always fight, Kibum. I'm an idiotic nineteen year old that can't seem to act mature for more than a few minutes. You're stubborn and have the mood swings of a pregnant woman. We are utterly unmatched and perfect for each other at the same time. I want to try again."

"I..." I stuttered, not seeming to be able to form coherent words, and regarded him with confusion clouding my head. I couldn't deny it...I was still in love with him. I loved every single idiotic inch of him. So, instead of a response, I moved towards him, stopping just out of touching distance.

"I'm sorry," he said and stared at me with hope radiating off of his features. "Please?"

"Damn it," I sobbed and moved forward again, stumbling his arms without an ounce of dignity left.

"I thought I was the one with balance problems," he cried and pulled me tight against his chest. Through the wet fabric of his thin shirt I could feel his body trembling against the chilly air. His skin was cold to the touch and the skin on his neck, where I had wrapped my arms, was covered in goose bumps. I could feel his heart thumping out of his chest, mixing with the beat of mine.

"I have no balance without you," I sighed and rested my head under his chin, pressing a small kiss to his sharp collar bone. "For the sake of sounding incredible cheesy...or sounding like you," I added with a small smile.

"You're shaking," he murmured and pulled me up straighter; me knees weren't doing their job.

"I know," I sighed and curled my hand into a fist around his shirt. "So are you. Come inside."

"I don't know if I'm actually allowed," he sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, followed by another, and another, and another.

"Just don't let me go, my dad won't kill you if I'm in between you two," I murmured. My skin was becoming increasingly agitated due to the cold rain beating down upon us.

"Gladly," he sighed, bending slightly and scooping me into his arms.

"I didn't mean that literally, you know," I laughed but didn't protest. I had missed the feeling of being in his arms more than anything.

"I know," he grinned down at me, dripping droplets of water on my face. His brown hair was plastered to his pale forehead.

When we reached the front door, though, he begrudgingly set me back on my feet in front of my already waiting mother and not so happy father. Of course, he slyly wound his right arm around my thin waist and held be close to his chest. I was at a loss for words as to what to say to my dad, so I merely dropped my chin and folded my hands over Jinki's secure arm.

"Well don't just stand there," Mom laughed. In my peripheral vision, I could see the huge grin on her face. "Come inside."

"Thanks," Jinki sighed and helped me through the door; we stayed as far as possible from my father.

"Not a problem. Kenji, you can go back to bed," Mom grinned and motioned for my father to leave.

"I'll stay," he snapped, not removing his glare from Jinki for an instant.

"Kenji, go back to bed," My mother continued as she walked down the hall towards the bathroom. She quickly pulled an armful of towels out of the linen closet before hurrying back to us.

"Hana-"

"Kenji, please, let me handle this one. I mean, give the boys some privacy," Mom sighed as she threw the towels at me. When she noticed that my father still hadn't moved, she made a small, guttural growling sound that I knew held significance to them because my dad quickly turned and walked up the stairs. "Oh it's a shame that you're hear, you're missing out on some of the greatest parts of making up. I do wish you were at home or something," she added and shook her head sadly in my direction.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I turned, still in Jinki's embrace, to hand him half of the towels.

"Sex," she replied simply, as if it was the most normal statement of her life, before walking over to sit on the bottom of our carpeted stairs.

"Mother!" I gasped and spun to stare at her incredulously, losing my balance in the process and being gently caught by Jinki's muscular forearm.

"It's the truth! Now both of you strip. Don't track water through my house," Mom laughed and rolled her eyes at the stunned expression on my face.

"Mother!" I, again, gasped, annunciating every syllable.

"What? It's nothing you haven't seen before," she teased and grinned at me. She was as happy as I to be back in Jinki's arms. She loved him like a son, probably why she had tried so hard to get up back together.

"Um, Mrs. Kim..." Jinki stuttered. I could feel the way his broad chest was still trembling against my back.

"Oh sorry, Jinki," I gasped and turned again. Forgetting about my mother, I quickly grabbed the edge of Jinki's- "Hey this is mine!" I gasped as I fingered the familiar material with a small smile on my pert lips.

"Oh...about that..." he began but then tilted his head and regarded my drenched attire thoughtfully.

"Shut up," I laughed and pulled upwards on his shirt, lifting it over his head when he raised his arms and then dropping it on the floor by the door. "I can not believe that you sat in a storm! What if you get pneumonia? Idiot."

"I couldn't just go back without you," Jinki sighed as I grabbed a towel and quickly removed the droplets of water from his shoulders.

"Well you might not have been able to go back at all. Do you know how I would have felt?" I asked and allowed him to pull my own wet sweat shirt over my head before wrapping a blue towel around me.

"I was under the impression you hated me so I figured I didn't have anything to lose. I just got sick of being alone last night so I told Jonghyun to drive the boys to DBSK's apartment and stay there for the night before I walked here," he mumbled and glanced at my mother our of the corner of his eye.

"Fine I won't look. It's not like it matters, anyway. For God's sake, you're gay," she twittered and hopped off of the stairs. She pointedly rolled her eyes in our direction before making her way down the hall and into the kitchen. "You can borrow some of Kibum's clothes, Jinki; his bag is still in there, by the way."

For the next few minutes, Jinki and I hurried into dry clothes and warmth. When we were successfully clad in my last spare clothes, I dragged him into the living room, noticed that the mess that I had made earlier had vanished, and made him sit on the sofa. My mother came in a few moments later with two fresh cups of tea and caught me kneeling next to Jinki and vigorously drying his short hair with a soft towel; his arm never left my waist.

By the time I was satisfied with my handy work, it was almost six in the morning and I was _exhausted._ I was still wound securely in Jinki's tight embrace, but I was barely coherent. My mother was dozing on the sofa across the room, and Jinki's body was weakly resting against the arm rest of the couch on which we were seated.

"Hey, Kibum?" he murmured after a while.

"Hmm?" I groaned and adjusted my head on his bare chest. There was a single blanket draped over the two of us and his body heat was sufficiently keeping me warm. I was past the point of being too tired to keep a conversation going.

"I love you," he sighed. I could feel the muscles in his forearms tighten against my back, pulling me, if possible, closer to him.

"I love you, too," I muttered and wound my fingers upwards until they reached his neck. "Just don't ever do something like that again. This whole break up make up thing is hard."

"What did I do, again?" He asked with a small chuckle, letting his head loll to the side until his cheek was pressed against my forehead.

"I can't remember," I laughed, kissed his collar bone, and then slipped into sweet, sweet unconsciousness; a place filled with idiotic boyfriends that I fought with incessantly...and never got enough of.


End file.
